Real Affection Universe 3: Each Sorrow
by DianeB
Summary: Chakotay and Seven have a talk. For "Real Affection 2," which is NC-17 //oh boy, IS it// send an original e-mail request.


DianeB's Author's Note: Chakotay and Seven exchange words…and feelings. This is the third, and final, story in the C/7 "Real Affection Universe." When my girlfriend, Brenda, suggested an idea for a third story, I suggested she help me write it! And so it happened. Brenda wrote Chakotay's point-of-view; I wrote Seven's. Written in June, 2001. Rated PG.

Real Affection 3:  
Each Sorrow Has Its Purpose  
by DianeB and BrendaS-S

The kiss Seven of Nine gave Chakotay this time was as full mouthed and full hearted as the first one they had shared – god, could it really have been only an hour ago? – but rather more languid, as though her first "achievement of orgasm" had taken the edge off her need. No surprise. Also no matter. He would rather enjoy honing, and satisfying that need again. Though he knew from hard – _perhaps that should be "soft"_ he thought wryly – experience that he would not be able to enter her again for a far greater time than remained to them, of course he also had at his command other means of pleasuring a woman.

Lowering his mouth to trail licks and light kisses along her jaw, he slid a finger inside her and, as he had earlier, used his thumb to massage the hard little knot of nerves just above her entrance. If she had been wet before, she was drenched now, the ripe musky smell of her release and his own filling his nostrils even as the product of that release slickened his finger and thumb. After a moment, Seven moaned and lifted her hips to push against his tormenting digits. "Comman…Chak…"

If he had had even the slightest hope of becoming aroused again, surely that rich, husky voice would have done it, Chakotay thought. That or the look of her face, taut and strained with concentration as if she was struggling to capture and memorize every sensation he was bringing her. As matters were, he had no doubt he would react to this memory on more than one lonely night in the future.

But this wasn't a moment for self pity, with a lovely woman (and she was that, despite all of the Borg violations) lying utterly open and increasingly eager beneath him. Never stopping the pressure his finger and thumb were providing her most intimate parts, he trailed his mouth down over her chest, dropping small kisses all over her breasts, those full, perfect orbs that had been objects of fantasy for most of the men (and no small number of the women) of _Voyager_ ever since the former Borg had first been revealed in Human form. Seven arched her back, puckered nipples rubbing against his cheek and jaw, one brushing his lip before he shifted his mouth away.

What she wanted him to do now was obvious, but he resisted her desire, kissing instead just around her large, dusky rose aureoles until she moaned again and thrust hard against the digits that stimulated her so intimately. Then he pressed a second finger within her, as he wrapped his lips around one protruding nipple and began to suck.

That was obviously all she needed. She thrashed against the pressure of his hand and body even as she contracted violently around his invading fingers. "Uh…uh…ohhhh…" she rasped, her face tightening and then relaxing. After a moment, her eyes opened wide and focused right on his face, her black pupils huge in the crystal blueness of her irises, her lush red lips curving delicately upward in an unaware smile that made Chakotay's heart skip a beat.

That she was beautiful was old news, but he had never known, never even guessed, what that face would look like at a moment like this: trusting, intimate, finally at ease in her own transformed body. No one had ever seen her like this…

And very possibly, no one ever would again, he thought, his tenderness marred by a pang of regret. She might never look like this again – worse, so long as that damned Borg cortical node functioned as it was designed to, she might never _feel_ like this again. Any expression of her sexuality triggered the inHuman failsafe mechanism, limiting such physical and emotional intimacy to two short hours. With such sharp limitations, how often would she dare to trespass them – even if she retained full memory of how she had felt during those hours, which he doubted?

Chakotay's jaw tightened. He had thought, before, that he should pity Seven for the way the Borg had mutilated her body, but that was lesser, and kinder, than what they had done to her heart and her spirit. It was a wonder, and a tribute to her strength of will and character, that she was as Human as she was even now. But she had come as far as she ever would, unless…

He could help her. He knew that. But would he have enough time?

"_Voyager_ to Chakotay," Seven's husky voice intruded on his thoughts.

He shook his head slightly, returning his focus to his partner. "I'm here, Seven."

"You seem somewhat preoccupied. Does this mean I am not sufficiently…engaging?" From any other woman, it would have sounded coy – hell, it would have _been_ coy, a simple fishing for a compliment. From this woman, though, it was a real question, complete with a note of uncertainty that tugged at Chakotay's heart.

In answer, he gave her his gentlest, most reassuring smile, easing his fingers carefully from her. "I can't imagine any man alive thinking that," he told her softly. The kiss he gave her then had the same tenderness as the words.

She tilted her head up into the kiss, plainly trying to deepen it, but he pulled his own head back, just a little, and studied her face. _Are you ready to hear me now, Seven_?

Seven's expression was trusting, if slightly puzzled, as she looked back at him. Then her alabaster Human skin tightened in a frown, one shapely Human hand going directly to her temple.

He knew what her action signified. He had been on edge about it from the start. "It's begun, then."

She sighed. "No, Commander. It began six-point-three minutes ago, but it was only now that I was unable to prevent a reaction." He immediately shifted to sit up, and felt her restraining hand on his arm. "Do not…leave me…Chakotay." Though her voice was restrained, her eyes intensified the plea. "We have only one half hour remaining, and I would prefer to spend that time here, in your arms."

A line from one of Tom Paris's absurd old 2 D films came into Chakotay's head then. _"I wish I didn't have a heart," said the Tin Man. "I can feel it breaking now." Christ, I know just how the poor bastard felt_. "I'm not leaving," he promised Seven, holding her sapphire gaze with his own. "And you can stay in my arms as long as you want – as long as you can," he amended. "I'm just getting our clothes." He matched action to words, sorting through garments and undergarments and handing Seven her suit.

"For what purpose?" she asked, uncertainly.

"Because I think we should get dressed."

"You do not wish to look upon my nudity."

He shook his head in emphatic denial. "Seven, I'd gladly 'look upon your nudity' all day. But we don't have much time and I want to talk to you. Believe it or not, as a Human male I have a hard time concentrating on conversation when a desirable person is naked in my arms." He smiled at that, saw her echo the smile tentatively. "And besides, if I'm going to have to take you to Sickbay, I don't particularly want to carry you through the corridors naked, understand?" A wink.

"I understand," she said, her voice more matter of fact. "You would prefer to limit the specific information available to our ship's gossips."

"Exactly." Though, knowing the ship's gossip mills as well as he did, he still suspected the word about him and Seven had gone out sometime in the course of their first kiss in Airponics.

"Additionally, you wish to prevent the captain from becoming aware of our liaison."

"The captain?" he echoed, startled.

"I am well aware of your attraction to her," the former Borg said, with her usual directness.

He couldn't have been more disconcerted if she had slapped him.

**oOo oOo oOo**

As Chakotay's mouth closed over hers, Seven identified three things. First, that she enjoyed Chakotay's kisses very much, second, that her achievement of orgasm had eased some of that awful, aching need, allowing her to enjoy his kisses even more, and third – a most unfortunate third – the failsafe device had begun its initial round of warnings. She took full advantage of the first two, ignoring as best she could the third.

She had read enough to know that while Chakotay would not be ready to perform intercourse with her again for some time, her own body could be ready much sooner. However, when he touched her as he had earlier, so intimately and so gently, she was quite unprepared for the immediacy of her body's reaction. Instantly, the backs of her thighs began to tingle fiercely, as did a fair amount of the area Chakotay was caressing, and instinctively her hips rose into his moving fingers. She could feel a damp heat between her legs, and knew she must be "wet," as Chakotay had described.

"Comman…Chak…" Despite Chakotay's advice that she should not "over think" what was happening to her, she could not resist trying to match her datapadd knowledge with what she was currently feeling. Unfortunately (or not), her body was once more moving way too fast for her brain. Chakotay's fingers did not let up as he shifted his mouth off hers to trail kisses down her neck and across her breasts. She wanted him to suck her nipples as he had done before, but she couldn't voice the request. Instead, she arched toward him, twisting to try to get his mouth to the proper place. The aching need had returned with a vengeance, and she was at a loss as to what else she could do to make him understand.

As it turned out, he obviously already understood, for just at the moment when her frustrated need reached its pinnacle, Chakotay eased another finger inside of her, closed his lips around one nipple and began to suck with an almost vicious intensity. She had one second to feel herself contracting around his fingers and then she was imploding.

"Uh…uh…ohhhh." The feeling was much the same as it had been when she achieved orgasm during their copulation, but it was different, too, and she was glad Chakotay did not require her to explain it, because she finally understood there were no words, in any language.

This understanding did not come without its price. The buzzing was more insistent now, though still sporadic, but she knew she would soon be unable to hide it from the Commander. That was just as well, for she would need him to help her get to Sickbay. On the other hand, she hated the thought of separating herself from him, and this conflict only served to aggravate the buzzing.

Above the buzz, however, another lesson was learned, this one so deceivingly simple she wondered how she could have missed it before now, given her penchant for _overthinking_. It was _this_ that kept Lieutenants Paris and Torres so close together. Human mating behavior was more than just sex, it was this desire to comfort and be comforted, to have someone in your arms, to feel their heart beating next to yours, warm and alive.

As she felt the tremors of climax subsiding, she opened her eyes wide and looked at Chakotay, who seemed to acknowledge her at first, but then his eyes slid out of focus and he seemed far away. After a moment, she used a phrase she had often heard the captain use on him when he got that look on the Bridge.

"_Voyager_ to Chakotay."

He shook his head slightly, blinked, and gave her a half smile, one dimple showing. "I'm here, Seven."

Well, he was here _now_, but only because she had called him back. What had she done wrong? Once more, she could not pause the program to find out, but had to ask him. "You seem somewhat preoccupied. Does this mean I am not sufficiently…engaging?" She felt him remove his fingers and at once thought she had _not_ been sufficiently engaging. But he was still smiling, speaking softly.

"I can't imagine any man alive thinking that." When he leaned down and captured her lips again, she was ready to give it her all, but he pulled back, his face wearing another look altogether. This puzzled her completely, and she was about to question him again about her ability to be engaging, when the buzzing in her head suddenly blossomed into sharp pain, and she could not avoid putting her hand to her temple.

Chakotay jumped on it, mistakenly thinking the device had just begun its warning. She corrected him. "No, Commander. It began six-point-three minutes ago, but it was only now that I was unable to prevent a visible reaction." He immediately shifted to sit up, but she stopped him with an implant hand to his arm. "Do not…leave me…Chakotay. We have only one half hour remaining, and I would prefer to spend that time here, in your arms."

Another very odd look crossed his face, and she wondered what he was thinking. But then he spoke with assurance, keeping his eyes right on her, though he completed his action to sit up.

"I'm not leaving, and you can stay in my arms as long as you want – as long as you can. I'm just getting our clothes." He began sorting through garments and undergarments, handing Seven her suit.

She sat up and took the proffered clothing, letting it hang from her hand, and gave him a perplexed look. "For what purpose?"

"Because I think we should get dressed."

Suddenly she understood. This was another aspect of Human mating behavior, one not nearly as pleasant. "You do not wish to look upon my nudity."

A more emphatic denial would not have been possible. He shook his head so hard she thought it might separate from his neck. "Seven, I'd gladly 'look upon your nudity' all day. But we don't have much time and I want to talk to you. Believe it or not, as a Human male I have a hard time concentrating on conversation when a desirable person is naked in my arms." He smiled.

That made her feel distinctly better and she shared his smile. Then he added a coda that made practical sense. "And besides, if I'm going to have to take you to Sickbay, I don't particularly want to carry you through the corridors naked, understand?" A wink. He stood and began tugging on his briefs and uniform pants.

"I understand. You would prefer to limit the specific information available to our ship's gossips." She wondered if Naomi Wildman had finished with Flotter and was at this moment innocently telling Neelix she had seen them together in the corridor and how Chakotay had been acting funny, standing very close behind Seven during their whole conversation.

"Exactly."

Still sitting naked on the floor, she added a coda of her own, knowing the subject matter was not something she could have discussed with her holoimage of the Commander, because she hadn't programmed him with the specific knowledge. "Additionally, you wish to prevent the captain from becoming aware of our liaison."

"The captain?" That she had startled him was clearly evident by the way the color drained from his face, but she never considered this might _not_ be what he wanted to talk about. She just went ahead and said it because it was the truth.

"I am well aware of your attraction to her."

As if it were possible, more color escaped his face, leaving his tattoo to stand out in painfully stark contrast across his temple. He looked like she had slapped him. He opened his mouth, closed it, took a deep breath, and spoke. His voice was low and steady, the words starting out as denial and then changing abruptly mid sentence to something else entirely.

"I'm _not_ attracted…" Fiery color returned to his face, but it was not a blush of innocence, but of anger, his brows furrowed, amplified by the fact that he was still speaking very low. "God dammit, Seven! Time's running out. Stand up, get dressed. It's none of your business." He reached his hand out to help her up, but she pulled back slightly, hesitant to take it. She had said the wrong thing for certain now and she had made him angry. All of this must have been apparent on her face, because he immediately relaxed his expression, dropped his hand, and offered another smile.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you like that, but you took me by surprise, and as you can tell, I'm a little sensitive about the captain. Here, let me help you up." He extended his hand again and this time she took it, pulled herself to her feet, and began to fit her body into the catsuit. The static buzzing had become constant, but the pain had not intensified, and now that she was used to it, she could effectively ignore it.

"Yes, Commander. I am…sorry…too. You said you wanted to talk to me, and I assumed it was about your attraction to Captain Janeway." Her back to Chakotay, she finished aligning the suit with the wires and implants on her body, and then reached up to her collar to activate it.

"Spirits, Seven, would you stop saying that? And, no, that's not what I want to talk to you about." He paused and sighed. "At least not now, okay? C'mon." He motioned her towards the couch. "We're almost out of time, and I think I could use a cup of tea."

**oOo oOo oOo**

"I am well aware of your attraction to her."

Good gods, to look at Seven, so lovely and naked and vulnerable, and to hear her speaking of his attraction to _Kathryn_ – that was entirely too bizarre. He opened his mouth, closed it, took a deep breath, and spoke. "I'm _not_ attracted…" The flash of skepticism in clear blue eyes put paid to that statement, and he had a moment's frustration for those eyes, and for all the others that saw too much.

There were no secrets on this ship, had never been any secrets, would never _be_ any secrets, and he had absolutely no idea why he might ever have entertained even the minutest suspicion that this matter might be different. So he wondered how many minutes it had taken (or would take) the crew to learn of his intimacy with Seven? He should probably wonder how many _seconds_ it had taken them to note his attraction to Kathryn. _Hell, they probably knew about it before _I_ did_!

And of all the damned moments for that old feeling to come up for review – he had no _time_ for this, not now, not here! Especially not with everything else he still had to say. "Goddammit, Seven!" he snapped. "Time's running out. Stand up, get dressed. It's none of your business." He thrust a hand out to pull her to her feet, but she drew back, looking disturbed.

_Nice job, o even-tempered one_. Now she thought he was angry at her. _If we ever get back to the Alpha Quadrant, maybe I should consider joining the diplomatic corps_. He would never persuade her of anything _this_ way, that was certain. Relaxing face and body with some effort, he dropped his hand and tried another smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you like that, but you took me by surprise, and as you can tell, I'm a little sensitive about the captain." _You think maybe_? he snorted mentally. "Here, let me help you up." He extended his hand again.

Looking less unsure, she accepted the offered help and came gracefully to her feet. As she fit herself precisely into her catsuit, he donned the rest of his own uniform with the unthinking ease of habit, watching her intently. Who else, besides him and the Doc, knew what really lay beneath that spectacularly-fitted garment? Who would ever have the chance to learn? (And if he found the idea of anyone else looking on this woman's naked body oddly disturbing – well, he would let himself ponder that little fact at his leisure. Later.)

"Yes, Commander." Seven's deep voice cut into his thoughts. "I am…sorry…too. You said you wanted to talk to me, and I assumed it was about your attraction to Captain Janeway."

_Where in the world did she _get_ that idea_? "Spirits, Seven, would you stop saying that? And, no, that's not what I want to talk to you about." He sighed. "At least not now, okay? C'mon." He made an after-you gesture toward the couch. "We're almost out of time, and I think I could use a cup of tea."

The replicator composed his favorite blend in seconds, time he used for one last attempt to gather his thoughts, and find the arguments that would win her to his point-of-view. When he turned back toward the couch, he found Seven sitting in one corner, her body gathered into itself as if in self-protection. Her face was composed enough, though a tiny wrinkle originating at her brow-implant indicated the effects of her failsafe mechanism at work.

Stepping to the couch, he took a sip of his tea, realized belatedly that he should have offered Seven something. Silently, he extended his own steaming mug. As silently, she accepted it, allowing herself a single swallow of the sweet, fragrant beverage before setting the cup aside.

He sat down beside her and extended an arm to gather her to him. A little stiffly and self-consciously, she let herself be drawn, though she did not settle against him as she had before. Seeking her eyes with his own, he said softly, "Let me have the time we have, Seven." With a tiny, almost-imperceptible nod, she yielded to his unspoken request, and let herself lean on him. For the moment, perhaps only for the moment, yet he felt a small stirring of pride that this woman would grant him even so much dependence, as that other – as _others_ never would.

With a quick indrawn breath, he reminded himself of his plan, and he sent a silent plea to whichever of his gods and ancestors might be listening. _Logic for her mind, feelings for her heart and soul_, he reminded himself. For there must be logic, reasoning that she could retain even if the Doctor's reset of the failsafe robbed her of the feelings that would color Human perceptions of this moment; yet there must be feelings too, or why else would she hear him out? "I question your logic, Seven," he murmured tenderly.

A lift of her implant-brow told him that, whatever she had expected him to say, that was not it. "You…question my logic?"

He nodded, kissing her jaw. "I question your logic in allowing that failsafe to keep functioning." Another kiss, this one at her temple, next to that forever-be-damned implant. "I question your logic in putting yourself at risk that way."

She looked up at him then, with some faint sense of betrayal in her eyes. "I would be at no risk, had I not chosen to indulge my…curiosity regarding you."

From another woman, the phrasing of it would have been cutting, but Chakotay knew that Seven had not intended her words to hurt. She had said what she saw was the truth, in the only way she knew how to say it. That was her way: honesty at any cost. It came to him, in a thought that he forced firmly to the periphery of the moment (because Seven's needs must come first, here and now), that that was part of what he liked about this woman. Other women – other _people_ – might leave a man wondering where he stood, might even lie to him outright about what they wanted or who they were. Seven wasn't capable of that kind of subterfuge or dishonesty.

But in this case, even if Seven spoke what she believed to be the truth, she did not have the whole truth. "Maybe you wouldn't have been at risk if you'd had no _curiosity_," he corrected gently, tracing her jawline with two fingertips. "But you're Human, Seven, and for Humans curiosity isn't an indulgence. It's part of who and what we are. Especially," and he smiled a little at the thought, "this sort of curiosity."

"Curiosity regarding Human sexuality?" Her forehead creased further, and Chakotay wondered if the failsafe mechanism was to blame. Whether or no, his time was running short, so he pressed the matter, gently but insistently.

"Partly. But that's not all you were exploring, Seven."

"No," the woman admitted, looking away and then quickly looking back. "Though that was, of course, a portion of it."

"Of course," he agreed, just the hint of that former smile in his voice. "But the rest?"

She hesitated just a moment before tilting her chin back up so that she could look him in the eye. "Human affection." She winced, and he had no doubt, this time, that the failsafe was responsible. Instinctively, he wrapped his free arm around her to hold her even closer, drawing her bright head down to rest on his chest.

"Yes, Human affection. That's what the damned failsafe is protecting you from, Seven," he whispered fiercely. "From this." His arms tightened around her until she gasped, though whether in surprise or pain (and if the latter, pain caused by _what_) he did not know. "Not from the longing. Not from the need. From the fulfillment. You tell me – what's the logic in that?"

Long, implant-framed fingers raked distractedly through golden hair. "I did not say my choice was logical. I said it was necessary." A hint of desperation.

"Why, necessary?"

"I have already explained that." Her voice trembled. "Emotional distractions such as this…impair my efficiency."

"Love isn't a Human weakness, Seven." His own voice was intense, his conviction absolute. "It's a Human strength – the _greatest_ Human strength."

She lifted her head then, and looked straight at him, her crystalline eyes bright. "Is _love_ what you offer, Commander?"

Too late, Chakotay realized that his words might have implied more than he was prepared to affirm. Swiftly his mind considered and discarded half-a-dozen responses to that pointed inquiry: that he was speaking in general, not in specific; that he was speaking of _her_ feelings, not his own; that he was speaking –

For someone who was asking Seven to show so much courage, he sure wasn't showing much himself, was he?

But could he really say that he loved her? No equivocations now; no _What do you mean by love?_ or _I love you like a friend, Seven_ would answer that tremulous, focused gaze. After all, he knew damned well what she meant, and it would be lying to pretend he did not.

But it would be a greater lie, to promise her what she wanted without being certain he could give it, and only so that she would do as he wished.

And yet, she continued to look at him, so beautiful, so trusting. Chakotay fell into those blue blue eyes, found himself swept back in time to the moment when he had first broken through to the Human soul buried the Borg facade, back at the very beginning of their acquaintance. In an effort to separate her from the Collective, he had touched her mind through a Borg implant of his own, one he had unwillingly received during his sojourn with a smaller collective. In the process, he had felt the emotions of Annika, the beautiful young girl Seven had been before her assimilation: laughing, running, happy…free.

He realized, now, that a part of him had always held to that memory of Seven, gentling him toward her even when he hadn't truly known – much less fully trusted – her. A part of him had never forgotten that beneath the rigid armor of the Borg there sheltered a sweet girl's innocence, a childlike capacity for joy…and love.

_Love. Well, I will be damned_, he thought suddenly, his own capacity for joy startling him, despite the gravity of the moment. _I will be damned_. He almost smiled.

In the moments it had taken him to find his answer, Seven had clearly come to her own conclusions. She looked away, a bright flush staining her high cheekbones. Gently, he placed a finger under her chin, turning her face back to his.

Touching his lips to the smooth skin just above her brow implant, he answered softly, Yes, Seven. Love is what I offer." But even as her expression started to change at his response, he added the coda he knew he must: "But love needs time, Seven. Much more time than two hours."

**oOo oOo oOo**

Seven watched from a corner of the couch as Chakotay got his tea. She wondered what he wanted to talk to her about, if it wasn't Captain Janeway and it wasn't that he no longer wished to look upon her nudity. There were other possibilities for discussion, this she knew, other possibilities that could be far more unsettling and frightening. This thought caused her heart to thump wildly, which in turn provided additional emotional fodder for the failsafe device.

The buzzing pain deepened, but she worked to keep it from her features, instead studying the man walking towards her with his steaming cup of tea. She watched him take a sip and then look at her as if something new were occurring to him. When he silently extended his mug to her, she accepted it just as silently, and took a small sip of the hot liquid. It was fragrant and sweet, and not too much to her liking. She did not return the mug to Chakotay, but placed it on the low table in front of her, looking expectantly back at him.

Chakotay sat down close beside her, which was pleasant, but when he tried to draw her against him, she resisted, even though she was not sure why. The intimacy they had just shared was certainly thorough enough to warrant his being able to hold her in his arms on the couch, but still she stiffened, and the device shot a bolt of pain across her forehead for her effort.

Chakotay solemnly met her eyes, his expression one of knowing and understanding. "Let me have the time we have, Seven." His voice was soft, so soft she could barely hear it, but in spite of the pain, it was all the coaxing she needed. She nodded and relaxed against him, and then wished she could stay there until she had to be carried to Sickbay. She dismissed the childish futility of wishing in such a manner, and steeled herself mentally for whatever he was preparing to say.

"I question your logic, Seven."

This was, perhaps, the very last thing she had been expecting. Her astonished brow went up on its own. "You…question my logic?"

He nodded, kissing her jaw. "I question your logic in allowing that failsafe to keep functioning." He kissed her again, near the very spot where the failsafe was located. "I question your logic in putting yourself at risk that way."

His kisses were warm…but what was he saying? Did he not understand? Or did he? "I would be at no risk, had I not chosen to indulge my…curiosity regarding you."

He was obviously ready for this comment, because he met it sternly with one of his own, emphasizing one word above the others. "Maybe you wouldn't have been at risk if you'd had no _curiosity_, but you're Human, Seven, and for Humans curiosity isn't an indulgence. It's part of who and what we are. Especially," and here he smiled a little half-smile, as if he were enjoying a private joke, "this sort of curiosity."

She wanted to pretend he was confusing her. She could clearly see the direction he was taking the conversation, and she didn't want to go that way. So she tried to pretend, hoping she could keep him on this track and away from anything else. The failsafe gave her no respite, taking her misused hope and twisting it, piercing her with fresh pain. "Curiosity regarding Human sexuality?"

Chakotay gave no respite, either. "Partly. But that's not all you were exploring, Seven."

She sighed inwardly. There was no time, nor any sense, in keeping up this ruse. "No." She looked away from him and then quickly back, to justify her words. "Though that was, of course, a portion of it."

"Of course." She heard the smile in his voice, recognizing it as one of his "admirable qualities." "But the rest?"

There was no deterrent to this conversation. The thing she had discovered in his arms on the floor was the thing she had to admit to him now. Her stomach knotted and her heart hammered in her chest, but she tilted her chin up and looked him squarely in the eyes. "Human affection." The brutal failsafe toyed with her thrumming emotions, and she could not keep from wincing in pain. She saw him wince in sympathy as he drew her head down to his chest.

"Yes, Human affection. That's what the damned failsafe is protecting you from, Seven. From this." As his arms tightened around her, the device proved his point by kicking into a higher gear, its static buzzing so loud she was afraid Chakotay could hear it, even though she knew he could not. He continued. "Not from the longing. Not from the need. From the fulfillment. You tell me – what's the logic in that?"

She lifted her head slightly from his chest and raked her implant-fingers through her hair, determined to stop this conversation. "I did not say my choice was logical. I said it was necessary."

"Why, necessary?"

"I have already explained that." Why was he making her go through this again? Wasn't one confession enough for him? "Emotional distractions such as this…impair my efficiency."

But it was clear by his tone he wasn't about to back off his point, not at this late date. "Love isn't a Human weakness, Seven. It's a Human strength – the _greatest_ Human strength."

Now she pulled herself to a sitting position, and looked straight at him. He was talking about love, not sex, and he was addressing her directly. She was familiar with this. It had been one of the Doctor's lessons, it was also mentioned in the database, _and_ she had seen Lieutenants Paris and Torres expressing it personally. "Is _love_ what you offer, Commander?"

He didn't say a word, but the stunning array of emotions that crossed his face amazed her. She risked one moment of joy at the idea that she could have this for herself. She could have this, and _much_ more.

But first she had to have the Commander's answer. It was as simple as that. But as she continued to look at him, watching his face change with all the things he must be thinking, she came to the startling conclusion that it was _not_ "as simple as that" at all. It was complicated and confusing, painful beyond a Borg failsafe device, and she had been foolish to think it could be otherwise for her. She felt familiar heat rise to her cheeks and turned her head away from him. But Chakotay was having none of that. Gently, he placed a finger under her chin and turned her face back to his. He touched his lips to the smooth skin just above her brow implant and gave her his answer.

The simple one.

"Yes, Seven. Love is what I offer."

No amount of studying or observation or social lessons could ever have fully described the relief she felt at his words. The knot in her stomach immediately eased, and she could feel the tension draining from her shoulders. But before the relief could fully settle over her, he added with caution and not a little hope, "But love needs time, Seven. Much more time than two hours."

She knew what he meant and what he was offering, even as the device began its final approach to shut down. And she _wanted_ what he was offering. She struggled to get the words out.

"Please tell…the Doctor…tell him to…I want him to…reconfigure…the failsafe…"

**oOo oOo oOo**

Chakotay stood over the recumbent figure in Sickbay, casting a quick glance around to ensure he was alone before letting his fingers settle on Seven's marble-pale forehead, to brush back a single strand of silky blonde hair.

It seemed her wish – _their_ wish – was not to be granted simply for the asking. Or, at any rate, not for _his_ asking. When Chakotay told the Doctor that Seven wanted her failsafe to be reconfigured, the EMH had greeted him with a look of cool astonishment, and informed him that a) Chakotay did not know what he was asking, and b) the decision was so significant that he, the EMH, could proceed only on Seven's own instructions. Then the Doctor had asked, a bit more cautiously, how Chakotay happened to find Seven in such a state.

Chakotay had demurred. The rumor mill might know, or deduce, the nature of his entire encounter with Seven, but he was a private man (at least as much as possible in his current situation), and not the sort to regale listeners with stories of his love life. Especially since, it seemed, the lady in question was not going to be in any state to welcome the questions such admissions would inevitably bring. Though she might have the memories of their lovemaking – their _loving_ – those memories would be devoid of the attendant emotions.

When would Seven be able to tell the Doctor herself, that she wanted him to reconfigure the failsafe? How long would it take for the logic of Chakotay's earlier arguments again to overcome her objections, for the traces of remembered feelings to overcome her fear of the risks that went with "certain emotional stimulation?" Chakotay did not know. But he _did_ know, no matter how long it took, he would stay with Seven, reminding her, coaxing her, preparing her in every way she would permit.

If need be, he would even teach Seven how to love all over again.

After all, hadn't she taught him?

He drew a chair up next to her biobed, and sat beside her to wait.

End.

**oOo oOo oOo**

_I've always believed that what you gain in love is greater than what you risk."_

-- Chakotay, "Twisted"


End file.
